


Drive me home for Christmas

by Mystrothedefender



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batjokes Secret Santa, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28314045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystrothedefender/pseuds/Mystrothedefender
Summary: My Batjokes Secret Santa gift for Kai. (rated e for chapter 2)Batman finds Joker in a terrible state, and rushes to get him to safety.
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Drive me home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PowerBottomJoker (Chiburui)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiburui/gifts).



> Merry christmas kai, I hope you like this. I planned to make it a lot more angsty (and nsfw) but this felt like a more natural start. I'll be writing another chapter within the next couple o' weeks that'll have all the juicy stuff for you.

White near-virgin snow coated the Gotham skylines, coming down so thick it was difficult to see. Spots of Joker’s blood peppered the white scape spread at Batman’s feet, footprints veering across the sidewalk, as if Joker were struggling to stand, let alone run.

“Joker?!” Batman yelled, trying to stop his anger from seeping into his voice.

Joker knew he was following him, of course, how could he not, so there was no point in being quiet.

He took off after the footsteps, watching them become more and more smudged as Joker slipped and stumbled through the street. He was losing a lot of blood, Batman didn’t think he’d hit him _that_ hard…

The snow was coming down faster and heavier with each passing moment, the footprints were starting to fade under them. He had to find Joker soon, for his own good.

_THUMP_

It was faint but Batman heard that…

He followed the noise, turning the corner into an alley.

Joker was slumped against a dumpster, it looked as if he’d been trying to climb in, probably trying to hide or find shelter. Though Batman couldn’t really think why Joker would be trying to hide, he was usually so zealous while Batman was beating him.

Batman walked up to Joker, looking down at the pile of limbs tangled on the floor. He let out a soft sigh, nudging him with his foot. “Joker?” he said softly.

He leant down and reached out, finding a pulse. It was there, he was alive. Batman frowned down at Joker, he was sure he hadn’t done enough damage to cause this.

Carefully he unfurled Joker on the floor and began checking him over. He was covered in bruises and a few nasty cuts, 4 broken ribs, his forearm was fractured and so was his shin, his jaw was dislocated. The jaw was probably Batman’s work, but the rest he couldn’t account for.

“What happened here?” Batman said to himself. He scooped up Joker in his arms and walked carefully back towards the street.

Batman frowned softly, looking down at the crumpled frame of the smaller man. Every time he was in this state Batman was taken aback by how small Joker really was. His personality filled a room, it was so easy to forget that he weighed as much as a sheet of paper.

This had happened to him in Arkham, somehow. He’d been there for about 2 months now and had escaped less than an hour ago. Maybe another inmate, maybe the guards. Maybe it had been enough to make him want to escape?

Maybe he’d left to find Batman. Get his help. That was probably wishful thinking, thinking Joker would think rationally. If it were true Joker wouldn’t have run from him.

He couldn’t return him to Arkham like this, Batman quickly decided.

He’d take him to the cave until he was well enough and sober enough for Batman to get a straight story out of him, then he’d fix what needed fixing, and then take him back.

He walked to the sidewalk, standing under a streetlamp. Under the light the light Joker’s usual white skin shone with an array of coloured mars; purple, green, yellow. Bruises all at different stages of healing, covering around 80% of his exposed skin.

Looking at him now Batman could tell this was done by the guards, the shapes of the bruises matched the batons they carried. It made his stomach turn. Arkham was supposed to care for him, they did the opposite, and for what reason? Who did it help?

As he waited for the Batmobile Joker’s eyes flitted open, he blinked and stared up at him through bleary eyes. Batman couldn’t be sure Joker knew who he was looking at.

A smile came to Joker’s face telling Batman he was wrong, filled with familiarity and ease. The skin on Joker’s lip split as he smiled, sore red lines appearing on them. Batman wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or if it was because he was dehydrated.

Joker opened his mouth, more angry red appearing on his lips, a jagged breath left him as he tried to talk.

“Shh,” Batman instructed. “You’re ok.”

Joker let out another breath, a glint of defiance in his eye. “…Cold,” he managed to say.

Batman frowned, glancing over Joker’s body, noticing the goosebumps raised on his flesh. He pulled his cape around him, wrapping him like a baby in it, hoping it would help shield him from the wind at least.

“Is that better?” he asked, “Don’t talk. Blink twice for yes.”

Joker let out a soft huff, no doubt meant to be a laugh.

He inhaled deeply, gathering his strength to try and speak again despite Batman telling him not to.

“Yes.”

Batman’s frown deepened at Joker’s defiance, but truthfully it was comforting, Joker had the energy and the will to defy him, that meant he was going to be ok. When Joker did what he was asked without question, that’s when there was cause to worry.

The first time Batman had taken him back to the cave he had asked Joker to put his seatbelt on and Joker had done it without a word. That had been terrifying.

“Hurts,” Joker said softly, jerking his head a little, indicating to his dislocated jaw.

“It’ll hurt if I fix it,” Batman informed him, as if he didn’t know, Joker knew better than most people how painful fixing a dislocated jaw was.

Joker frowned, jerking his head a little again, letting out a growl, the angry little bag of bones fidgeting in Batman’s arms, threatening to spill onto the floor. The action made Batman’s gut jolt with worry, the fall could make Joker worse, if he landed wrong the broken ribs could splinter into his lung and puncture it, or one of his fractures could become a full break. Any number of things could happen.

Batman tightened his gip on him, his large hands more than encircling Joker’s limbs. “Fine,” he conceded, “It _will_ hurt.”

Joker let out an affirming grunt, his brow furrowed deep.

Batman nodded and moved a hand to Joker’s face, gripping him and popping the jaw back into place.

A loud yelp left Joker’s lips, breaking the relative silence of the night, after a moment the scream turned to a laugh of relief, a noise that turned Batman’s stomach and made him wish that Joker had stayed passed out.

“Shut up,” Batman snapped.

Joker took in another breath, and Batman watched him intently, hoping for something important.

“Alfred…” Joker began, his words still laboured, but now from pure exhaustion rather than the pain. “Will be mad.”

Batman grit his teeth, it still felt uncomfortable hearing Joker say Alfred’s name.

“If you bring me home again…” Joker finally finished.

Truthfully, Alfred had told Batman not to bring Joker to the cave again, he’d brought him back three times this year already. He had said he wouldn’t accept Joker back in the cave again after the mess Joker had made last time, but Alfred would never turn him away, once Batman explained he’d understand.

Batman shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, focus on conserving your energy.”

“I’m not worried,” Joker grinned.

Batman let out a huff, shaking his head.

“Would be funny…” Joker continued, his tone sickly sweet, trying to push him.

“Shut up,” Batman snapped back, almost playfully, half hoping that the back and forth might lift Joker’s spirit, keep him from falling asleep, or make the wait time feel shorter.

Where was the Batmobile..?

Joker shifted and squirmed under Batman’s cape, his hand and arm slowly emerging out of it, he reached up and lifted his hand to Batman’s face, tracing his jaw with his fingers.

“Thankyou,” Joker said quietly, his voice soft and strange.

“Shut up,” Batman repeated, pulling his head back slightly, out of Joker’s reach.

Joker let out another weak laugh, “Come on, handsome…” Joker cooed.

Batman grit his teeth. “Tell me what happened to you,” he asked.

Joker pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes. “Where’s that damn car of yours..? Fucking… _freezing_.”

Batman felt himself tense slightly and pulled Joker closer to him, hugging him as close to his chest as he could manage while holding him bridal style.

Joker let out a weak hum, closing his eyes, “Maybe we should do that thing… get naked and do that skin to skin thing. Don’t wanna get hypothermia.”

“If you tell me what happened to you maybe I’ll consider it,” Batman offered.

Joker rolled his eyes. “You’re meant to be the worlds greatest detective… or something. You can tell me what happened.”

Batman let out a soft growl. He didn’t want to put words in Joker’s mouth, it was a dangerous thing to do. Joker was very skilled at making people say what he wanted them to, Batman was always worried that he’d somehow do it to him. “It looks like you’ve been abused by the guards.”

Joker nodded, smiling weakly. “Not plural,” he added.

“One guard?” Batman said to confirm. “A new one?”

Joker nodded again. “Little shit called Mark. I said I’d…” He threw his head back and yawned loudly, stretching out in Batman’s arms. “I don’t remember, actually… said something to piss him off. And he hasn’t let me live it down.”

“Did you threaten him?” Batman asked. Joker had a habit of threatening people off hand, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if some young guard with a complex took it personally.

Joker scoffed, “Does it matter?”

That was a yes.

Joker’s expression turned soft, as if he’d forgotten what he was talking about as something new popped into his head. It was possible he had a concussion.

“You know it’s Christmas tomorrow,” he stated, his voice quiet and wishful.

Batman nodded. “I know.”

“And I’m going to be at your house… to ruin it for you,” Joker smirked.

“I’ll make sure you get a nice Christmas dinner,” Batman offered.

Joker let out a soft hum, smiling wide. “Mm… Sounds good. The Christmas dinners are always so bad, mostly gristle, the veg tastes like it’s made of metal. Yours will taste better, right?”

“It’ll taste amazing, I promise.”

“You’ve got that, uh… fancy English man to cook for you? I doubt it’ll taste _amazing_ , you know what the English do to food.”

“He’s a very good cook, Joker. Professionally trained,” Batman said, defending Alfred.

Joker rolled his eyes, “Of course he is. Only the best for our _Brucie_ , eh?”

Batman felt his jaw clench at the mention of his civilian name.

Joker let out a titter, and extended his arm again, booping Batman on the nose. “You’re so cute, little bat. Saving a murderous clown from freezing to death and _filling_ him up.”

“I’m just doing the right thing, Joker. I’d do it for anyone.”

Joker scoffed, “Anyone? Really, darling? _Anyone_? When was the last time you took Riddler to the cave? Clayface?” He shook his head, “No, no. I get special treatment.”

Batman’s face flushed under his mask. That was true, he’d never taken anyone back to the cave other than Harvey, and that was because he was close to death. The only reason was that he trusted Joker not to tell his secret, and he didn’t trust medical professionals to keep their oath when it came to _him_.

Joker strained in his arms, trying to lift himself up towards Batman’s face, Batman wasn’t sure why but the act, although slow and soft, felt violent and threatening. “You _trust_ me,” he whispered, “You _love_ me.”

Batman’s body tensed, and he (quite successfully) resisted the urge to throw Joker on the floor.

“You do,” Joker cooed, his voice a song.

Batman stilled, his eyes forward, his gut cold, Joker in his arms.

Where was the fucking batmobile?


End file.
